Ruminations
by dawnsfire
Summary: Four perspectives on the events of "The Con Man in the Meth Lab." Might be five, if the muse is kind...
1. Angela

Insert standard declaimer--I don't own them, etc, etc.

* * *

"_And I promise that my eyes will never be caught by those shiny baubles again," Brennan said, looking Booth straight in the eye. "Happy Birthday, Booth."_

Angela clapped a hand over her mouth. _Did she really say what I think she said? _She wanted to squeal. _That's the closest I've ever heard her come to saying 'I love you.' _She took a quick look at her coworkers. Only Cam and Sweets had altered expression. The rest seemed oblivious; even Booth. Of course, Booth had been moody and distracted since Jared arrived, and it wasn't just about his partner. _Whatever's on his mind has to do with something his brother did, besides date Bren_. It was driving her nuts, but the look on his face and the set of his shoulders told her she would get no answers form Booth. And Brennan, once told a secret, had a habit (sometimes annoying, sometimes a blessing) of keeping it to herself. There would be no answers there, either.

She raised her glass as they toasted their favorite G-Man. _But she did give me the dirt from when she attacked Jared. __I haven't seen her so mad in a long time. Even if much of it was at herself for falling for his line. I would have loved to see her push him off that barstool._

She was wondering where Booth-lite was when he strolled up to the bar and ordered a drink, an unattractive pout on his face. He was also rather obviously avoiding both Booth and Brennan, going so far as to chat up a woman at the bar.

*******************

"Where did Booth go?" Angela asked Brennan quietly as she was handed a piece of cake. Brennan shrugged, one-shouldered.

"Took Jared outside for a moment. I'll go after him if he's out there too long ."

"Just--listen to him, Sweetie. Something's bothering our favorite FB-eye candy."

A rueful smile touched Brennan's mouth. "And I know just what it is--or part of it at least." She looked through the door at the brothers. The elder one was very intense about whatever he was saying, and the younger one was acting confused. _Acting is the key word_, Angela decided. _He doesn't _want _to understand what Booth is saying_.

Outside, Jared drained his glass and shook it in Booth's face, then turned and came back in. Booth stayed outside, face tight.

"Cover for us, will you, Ange?" Brennan asked as her partner punched the side of the bus shelter. "And hand me a plate and a fork, please."

Angela did so silently, not bothering to mention the scientist already held a fork. "Be gentle, sweetie."

"I'll try." And with that, Brennan slipped out the door.

The next time Angela looked up, they were sitting hip to hip in the shelter. If it wasn't for the circumstances, she would have been ecstatic. Returning her gaze to the party, she noted Jared with yet another drink in his hands. _I think I get it…_


	2. Seeley

Standard disclaimer. I only wish...

Feels a little rough to me, but hey,what do I know? Besides, the subject matter isn't the most comfortable.

* * *

Jared was another alcoholic in the making--_just like Dad_, Seeley thought miserably, watching him reenter the restaurant. _How did--how could I have missed it?_

Even after nearly 30 years, he really wasn't sure how every time he covered for Jared he ended up on his dad's hit list. And outside of the family, little brother had a knack for easing his own way: slid through school without major exertion, made and _stayed _on the varsity team, got into the Naval Academy, and was duly promoted, and landed his current very prestigious position. And he managed to charm Bones on top of it all, filling her ears with crap! _She's too trusting, sometimes. But I've never talked about my family_, he realized. _She must think all Booths are credible_._ It's the damn smile._

His attempt at lightening the mood failing, he groaned and went back to Jared's problems. He himself was no squint, but he had read up a bit on addiction when he realized he had his own problems. There had been a concept running through the literature--addictive personalities. Not entirely proven, if he remembered correctly, but it felt--right. _It would explain a few things_, Seeley mused to himself. _Dad and Jared--alcohol, me--gambling. God--what about Parker? _Now that was one of his bigger nightmares, that Parker would inherit this weakness from him.

And the worst of it was that there was nothing more he really could do for his brother. Only help Jared cover things up, slide out of trouble…and at his own expense. Be an enabler. Nothing had really changed since they were in school. Except the consequences. Dad's belt was a summer picnic next to the possibility of a DUI-related death. He rubbed his back distractedly.

But there was one thing he accepted as complete truth. "They" were right--change of that nature had to come from within. The senior Booth never did get to that point; Seeley had been determined to stop the gambling; Jared had to be ready to do the same with the drinking. He couldn't drag his little brother to an AA meeting when he didn't--wouldn't--couldn't admit there was a problem. _Hell, after I scrubbed toilets in Vegas just so I could spend that tiny check at the craps table, and my clothes were too loose because I couldn't afford to eat right or buy new ones on a regular basis, I eventually realized something was wrong. And those pitying glances…ugh_._ I got out of Dodge as fast as I could once I saw it. I tried to get Frankie to come with me, but he always was so sure he'd tap the jackpot the next time._ He blessed whoever had left that pamphlet for GA on the table, and prayed for them every Sunday, as well as Hank, who had helped him put it behind him. The lure of the dice only popped up a few times these days, not like the clawing pull it was in the beginning, when he had to avoid even arcades and lottery machines in convenience stores.

Booth punched the side of the bus shelter. From their talk, he could tell it would be a while--if ever--before Jared would be ready. _I meant it_, he swore. _I'm not covering for him anymore. He screws up, he can take his lumps_._ But that's another I can't protect from themselves…_ And it hurt to admit that, too.

_****************************_

And now he sat next to his partner, trying to eat cake. With unaccustomed sensitivity, she had asked if he need both space and time before she sat. Trying to make up for being influenced by Jared's BS, he guessed, but she was still soothing company. And he knew from experience that she would not judge him if he chose to speak. Nor would she pressure him for more. Which was probably why she knew so little about him, and why he knew so much more by comparison about her.

He took a deep breath. This was as hard as telling her about Raddick.

"My dad drank," he said, leaning forward.

He could feel her eyes on him. There was a faint clink of the dish being set aside, and then her unwounded hand came to rest gently, undemandingly, on his arm. Just like the time they sat in the cemetery, when he had shared another jagged piece of his past. And, like then, he found the same consolation in her simple touch.

* * *

For the record, I have never been through these programs, so if I have anything wrong, I hope you will forgive me.


	3. Cam

I may have squeezed too much in here, but I'm trying to get a grip on Cam's personality. This season has offered some new insights into her, and while I was never on the "kill Cam" bandwagon, I find I've warmed up to her quite a bit. Thanks to miss jasadin for adding her to the list.

See chapter 1 for disclaimer.

* * *

Cam hadn't missed Seeley hauling Jared outside, nor Jared's reentry, flushed with more than drink. And Dr. Brennan's quiet exit a short time later hadn't gone unnoticed either.

"Angela?"

"They're outside, Cam," the artist murmured softly. "Please don't make a big deal over it."

"Don't worry. I just wanted to make sure neither of them ran off." She hesitated. "Some toast, don't you think?"

Angela grinned. "What I've wanted to hear now for years. If they could only see past the walls they've both put up, they'd really be perfect for each other." She took a quick sip. "Gotta ask two things, Cam."

"Let me guess. One, if I'm upset about the two of them?"

"Right. How do you feel about it? Honestly?"

"I'm happy for Seeley if he's found someone to be happy with. He--needs someone for the long haul, whether there's a ring involved or not. I'm not that person. At least not for him. Dr. Brennan is. After more than two years of working with the both of them, it's rather obvious. Though I never expected either of them to take so long to come to the point." She smiled. "Let me tell you, Angela--for me, Booth was a good boyfriend, a great lover…and a better friend."

"Bren's mentioned something about a line, but she's never explained it."

Cam laughed so hard she had to drop into a chair. "Oh, God, I can't believe it. He didn't!"

"What?"

"The line. That was his excuse for breaking up with me. Professional partners should not cross a line romantically in case one of them gets hurt. He blamed himself for me getting poisoned that time, and is afraid to expose Brennan to similar danger."

"As though chasing serial killers is any less safe," Angela interjected. "I get scared for her sometimes."

"Exactly. And what he doesn't know--doesn't _want _to know, if you ask me--is that no matter how I approached the head, that capsule would have broken. Wouldn't have mattered if I knew it was there, or who tried to retrieve it. It simply wouldn't have been as much of a surprise when it broke. A very cleverly laid trap. What's the other thing?"

"Denial's not just a river in Egypt. I've said that to Bren; maybe I should start saying it to Booth. How well do you know them?"

"Seeley and Jared? Pretty well. I met Seeley 15 years ago, though that's hard to believe."

"I never realized before that Booth has many walls up as Bren does. He--" she searched for words, "--presents such an open front. But this week has been torturous."

"It has. I can't tell you what you want to know about recent events, Angela, but what I can tell you is that Seeley is a born protector. Circumstances in his life have only encouraged that, so it's like breathing for him. He doesn't even think about it anymore." _A little poetic, I suppose. Still true, though._

And Angela was nodding. "I see that. When you ask, he'll tell you it's his job, even though he seems to do it instinctively. And he takes it very seriously. We've all seen that."

"Yes, we have. And 'instinctive' is the right word." Both women fell silent. But when Cam didn't continue the conversation, Angela wandered off to speak with Hodgins and Clark.

Cam barely noticed her going, too involved with her own thoughts. _When I started at the Jeffersonian, I had a very precisely defined goal, and once I saw how the lab operated, I was all the more determined to whip everyone into shape. I couldn't believe they were so successful and so unprofessional at the same time. Seeley was a very pleasant bonus._ She smiled into her glass. _But he made it clear where he stood when it came down to it. I suppose we fell back into bed out of habit; it was a…safe choice as well as a satisfying one. And then--Epps. No one likes to be dumped, but I can't say I didn't see it coming. Ah well. Like I told Angela, Seeley makes a better friend in the long run_. She sighed, seeing Seeley and Brennan coming back in. He looked a little calmer; whatever he had said outside seemed to have helped. Although both seemed to be avoiding Jared.

_Dr. Brennan--now her I have a harder time figuring out. I watched Seeley put up his walls; I saw his family just enough to understand why. Hers? I've barely scraped the outside. Being a foster child and having criminal parents is just the smallest part. What's that quote? A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma? They were talking about her and just didn't know it. She's never been overt in her attraction to Seeley, yet it's there. She's openly dated other men, and practically threw herself at Jared this week, but her core loyalty is to Seeley. I wonder what might have happened if he had been a little more forceful about her not dating Jared. I think she might have listened to him._ Cam shook her head in rueful amusement and joined the rest of the squints at their table.

**********************************

An hour later, they were getting ready to leave. Hodgins had cheerfully donated a limo to get everyone to and from. "Best not to take any chances," he had said, and Cam thought she was the only to see Booth flinch.

Cam and Seeley looked at Jared, talking a mile a minute to yet another woman at the bar.

"How'd he get here?" she asked.

"He drove," Booth replied tightly.

"We can't let him do that now," she pointed out. "Tell you what--I'll grab his keys and get him outside while you hail a cab. I don't think it's smart to let him ride with the rest of us. Hate to tell you, Seeley, but Jarhead hasn't made too many friends among the Squints."

"No, I know." His shoulders had tightened again as they spoke.

"She's not going to leave you because you had a hellish childhood, Seeley. You know that. It might even bring you closer." When he turned to look at her, a carefully bland expression on his face, she simply laughed. "I've known you too long now to be fooled by that. But if you don't go after her soon, you will have to suffer through this again and again, even if it's not with Jared. Now," she continued briskly, "let's see about getting your little brother out of here so we can all go home with clear consciences."

* * *

I can't remember if Ange ever said that to Brennan on the show about denial, but I know someone on this site has put those words in her mouth. My apologies for "borrowing" the idea.


	4. Jared

It really wouldn't be complete without idiot-boy's POV. I pulled a squint move and extrapolated a few things from both this episode and from what Booth says about his dad in "The Woman in Limbo." Helps to be a Navy brat, too.

Also--some of the dialogue's not right, I know it's not; I have no DVR, no TIVO, so I'm going by memory and the few snippets posted on Fox's recap page. I hope that the essence is correct, at least. But if anyone knows where I can get transcripts for season 4, please feel free to PM me.

* * *

Jared wanted to whistle when he followed Seeley up on the platform. _Damn, Seel's got all the luck. I thought Cam was smokin' but his partner is a fox! I can't believe he hasn't tapped that yet._

"Jarhead!" Cam exclaimed.

He corrected her firmly, catching the echo of the old military rivalry in Seeley's eyes. "Not Marines, Cam. Navy."

_Squid_, Seeley's expression mocked him; and _Grunt_, he made sure he conveyed back.

*******************************

He was smirking as he checked his medals and straightened his formal dress whites. _Hot date, lots of movers and shakers, White House for crying out loud. Bound to be quality food and booze there, too--bonus!_

He rather enjoyed how eyes pivoted when he and Bones entered the party. Between his new position--which firmly set him among the VIPs--and the hot doctor at his side in that long black creation with plenty of peek-a-boo lace, he had a lot of attention, and he slid into it like a hot knife through butter.

And because this was as much a chance to meet and network as it was to socialize, he was quickly absorbed into discussions that crossed military and civilian lines. Including an older Air Force General who remembered his father. "Bit of a hotshot pilot, old Booth. Shot down at least once, and a near escape with the Viet Cong." _I don't want to talk about Dad tonight. No family matters_. Noticing his date sitting on a bench, observing the crowds, he excused himself and headed for her, snagging some champagne for her along the way. He sat down next to her with his own drink.

And of course she would mention his brother. _Ah, what the Hell--they work together_. And he was confident enough in his own charm to know he wouldn't necessarily take second place.

"Seeley's not much of a risk-taker. That's probably why he made such a good sniper. Likes to hug those ridgelines and keep a low profile. I couldn't do that--I have to run along them."

When she demurred, he admired her loyalty briefly, and then leaned over and kissed her. "I'll bet that's one risk he never took."

She shook her head with a small winsome smile. _Hah! _Mentally, he chalked up a point for himself. _Seel doesn't know what he's missing!_

_**************************_

Shaking, Jared climbed out of the car. The front bumper was half-wrapped about a pole and the car itself was on the sidewalk. _I don't know what happened! How did I hit the pole? _He scrubbed at his scalp worriedly. _I--I must have blacked out before I hit it._

With a start, he realized the distant siren he was hearing was coming his way, and he swore softly. A cop car pulled up not more than a minute later.

"Sir? Are you all right?" the man asked, catching him by the shoulders as he wavered.

"Yes, Officer. I must have fallen asleep at the wheel. Been a long week," Jared said, offering a smile.

The cop eyed him doubtfully. "Do you have any ID, sir? Insurance card?"

"Um--yeah. Here." He dug out his wallet, showing his PA license in one window and his Navy ID facing it. "Insurance stuff's in the glove compartment. Hang on." He pivoted, pleased that he wasn't falling over. "Here ya go, Officer."

"Thank you, sir." The other man examined everything carefully. "I'll need you to take a breathalyzer test, Lieutenant Booth."

"Surely that's not necessary," he protested. "It's just fatigue." _Damn, damn, damn! I can't risk it. I'll lose my job--might get demoted--_

"SOP, sir."

"But--but--can you wait?" He fumbled for his phone. "Let me call my brother--I'll need a ride after all, no matter what."

The policeman considered that. "All right." And while Jared sent a short and frantic text, the cop made his own call for back-up, a fact Jared only realized when a Police Colonel arrived a few moments before Seeley.

The two men conferred briefly, in voices too low for Jared to hear. "All right, that's fine," Seeley finally growled, heading back. "C'mon, Jared. Let's get you home before something else happens."

The silence during the drive was oppressive, and Jared was abruptly reminded of their father in one of his rages. He snuck a glance at his elder brother out of the corner of his eye. Seeley's white-knuckled grip and fierce scowl sent a chill up his spine. _Seeley always distracted Dad, but who's going to distract Seeley?_

He almost fainted with relief when the SUV pulled up in front of the BOQ. "Get out, go to bed and sleep it off," Seeley instructed in that same growl, not looking at him. "Since you need the sleep so badly."

Jared was too relieved to take offense at the mockery. "Thanks, bro," he muttered and made his way inside.

*****************************

A day later, he was pleasantly surprised to get a call from his erstwhile date. "Meet me at the Founding Fathers," he suggested. "Cam told me it's a nice place."

He was not prepared for the fury in her eyes as she entered. Eyes flashing dangerously, she walked up to him where he sat at the bar. And he really wasn't ready for the questions she spit at him…something about Seel losing credit in some huge bust, something that could have made his career and promoted him, a case he was working with the state police.

_Hell. Crap. Sh**. That's what they must have been talking about last night._ He summoned up a smile, trying to add as much charm as he could to it. "Why don't you just leave this between brothers, Bones," he said. Her eyes darkened.

"You took advantage of him," she spat. "You know, you made me think that he's a loser. And what really makes me angry is that I believed you. You know, I wouldn't blame Booth if he never spoke to me again. _You're _the loser." She turned away and he exchanged a world-weary smile with the bartender.

But then she was back, and he looked up. _An apology? _In his experience, women who came back after a fight were always sorry. _The Booth charm strikes again!_

He was right the first time. She shoved him hard, sending him to the floor, and hesitated as though she wanted to follow up with a right hook, then spun and stormed out, curls bouncing in her wake.

He shook his head as he got back on the stool. "Bring me another," he told the bartender. "I'll be all right. Let's just call it a bad breakup, shall we?"

**************************

_He's got some nerve, lecturing me like that_, Jared seethed, stalking back inside. _Like he's such an angel. The gambling, kid out of wedlock. God only knows what else he's done, between being a sniper and then FBI homicide. And all that crap Bo--Dr. Brennan was spouting. What does she know about him? How good can he really be? After all, he was just a non-com. He didn't even make Warrant Officer, never tried to get a commission after getting his degree. He hasn't advanced any further in the FBI. He hits a comfortable spot and settles, not reaching for more. He really is afraid of success._

_Ah, hell with it. With him. Them._

He pointedly ignored them the rest of the evening, flirting and drinking with others at the bar. Until Cam came up along side him. "Hey, Jarhead."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Cam? I'm Navy, not some stinkin' Marine."

She chuckled, brushing up against him. "But it's such an apt nickname if you can ignore the military part. It rolls off the tongue. Would you prefer ring-knocker?"

His look should have seared the varnish from the bar, much less knocked her teasing smile off her face.

"Don't worry--Seeley didn't tell me that. He's not very conversant with Navy slang. Me on the other hand…I have all sorts of unexpected sources--and skills." She dangled his keys in front of him. "Time to go home, Jared. Party's over. We'll get you a cab."

"I can drive," he said, grabbing for the keys.

"No, you can't. Or you shouldn't." She gave him a measuring look he felt through everything else as she pulled them out of his reach. "Remember those sources I mentioned? I don't know everything, but I have a feeling you won't have anyone to bail you out tonight, assuming you could reach anyone in DC. And you get a cab to yourself because you're on the far side of the city from everyone else. Come on, Jared. Pay your tab, and let's go."

"He's paid up, Ma'am," the bartender interjected. "And she's right, pal. You're getting close to the limit. Let your friends take care of you."

She nodded and hauled him outside where Seeley was leaning against a cab. "There you are, Jar'," his big brother said and opened the door. "Thanks for coming; sleep well." He slipped a bill to the driver. "Take him home, make sure he gets inside, would ya? Appreciate it." Cam tossed his keys at him before the door shut.

By the time Jared got himself straightened out, the cab was already moving. Looking behind him, he could see Seeley and Cam were already gone.

* * *

One more chapter left!

_SOP=Standard Operating Procedure (probably more military than police)  
__BOQ=Bachelor Officer Quarters (usually on base)  
__Ring-knocker=obnoxious academy graduate; someone who raps their ring on the table to silence a later graduate_

And again, I don't know if I have the accident stuff right (I've been lucky with my family & friends), but it seemed to me on the show that Jared may not have had an official breathalyzer test, what with all that insisting he fell asleep. Probably would have obvious what the problem was, if not the actual degree.


	5. Temperance mostly

Last chapter. Thanks for reading, everyone. The number of reviews & alerts I got knocked my socks off!

Disclaimer in earlier chapters.

* * *

The night after his birthday, Booth came home, changed into sweats and pulled a cold beer out of his fridge, intending an evening of mindless TV. His plans were interrupted by a knock on the door and he swore lethargically as he got up.

Outside, there was quite the surprise for him. "Bones? What?"

She turned a sweet smile on him, looking up from the money she was handing a delivery boy. "Good, you are home. I was hoping I'd get here after you. Will you take the food? I got seafood and sushi for a change." He did and she added a fat tip. "Thanks. Tell your boss I appreciate it."

"He said any time for you, Dr. Brennan." The young man smiled, nodded at Booth, and was gone. Brennan stooped and picked up a paper bag at her feet by its handles.

"Well, let's go inside, Booth, before the food gets cold."

"Tell me you didn't drive over here, Bones. Your arm--"

"Of course not. I hired a cab and arranged for the food to arrive at the same time I did. I'll get a cab when I leave, as well. Where do you want to eat?"

"Living room's fine, I guess. Bones, not that I'm complaining, but why are you here?"

***************************

Brennan set the paper bag on his coffee table and pulled out a six-pack of beer. "I thought about scotch, but decided this would go with dinner better," she said, dodging his question for a moment. "Either sit or get plates."

He dropped onto the couch, fumbling for the remote. "You're evading the question, Bones. I like the company and I appreciate the food, but why are you here?"

She pulled over the container she wanted, and pulled a beer from the box. "Why don't you get something for me to open this with, and then we can talk."

She could feel his eyes on her before he stood back up and headed into the kitchen for a bottle opener. She knew why she had come, but she hadn't thought about what to tell him; had hoped he wouldn't ask. _Should have known better_, she thought ruefully, opening the carton. The savory odor made her stomach rumble.

"You didn't eat all day, did you?" Booth chuckled, sitting back down. "I could have heard that in the kitchen." He popped the top off her beer and picked up his own food. She shrugged and tucked a shrimp into her mouth.

They ate in companionable silence for a while. Brennan could feel him look at her every so often, but she was trying to formulate the words she was going to need.

"I've got ice cream, if you want dessert after this," he said finally. "Mint chip and rocky road. And a pint of butter pecan."

"That sounds good." They lapsed into silence again.

But when the food was gone, she found herself nervously playing with the empty bottle. "Booth--why I came."

He looked up at her, eyes dark with something she could not define. "You don't have to tell me, Bones. I shouldn't pry. I realized the other day that I make you talk, but rarely say much about myself. I like to think my friends find me an open book, so I don't have to explain. But I gave you a book with a lot of missing pages."

"Almost as many as mine," she replied. "Nice metaphor, by the way."

"Thank you."

"I came--in case you wanted to talk. But mostly so you could have company. Like when you brought food when we found my mother's remains. I realized later that I did need the company, and never would have asked. Pride, maybe. Habit, definitely." Her eyes dropped, then met his again. She smiled shyly. "I'm starting to understand."

"You didn't have to," he began.

"I did, in a way. It's not just a matter of balance--or not entirely. I know this week's been hard on you, Booth, and we're friends. I wanted to do something--like a friend would. When I thought about what you've done for me, the answer was pretty obvious."

******************************

"My dad was a Zoomie."

"Zoomie?"

"Air Force. I think I told you he was a pilot."

She nodded. "Thuds and phantoms. Fighter jets."

He grinned, apparently pleased that she remembered. "Right. Zoomie is a common term for someone in the Air Force."

"And squids are in the Navy, right?"

"Yep."

"Should I ask what they call someone in the Army?"

"The politest term is grunt. What Cam called Jared the other day--jarhead?--that's a Marine. She just likes the sound of it, and how it plays off his name."

_Who knew this would be so educational? _she thought, absorbing the terms. "I noticed how quickly he corrected her. I've heard about the inter-service rivalries, but I don't know much about the military other than what I've picked up in identifying bodies. Ranks and ratings, mostly."

"I should take you to the Army-Navy football game sometime," he said with a laugh. "That would give you a great example." She wrinkled her nose and he laughed all the harder.

But then his expression sobered. "Dad never forgot his time in the service, even though he wasn't career. His barber shop has pictures of the planes he flew, things from when he was in service. Not that he didn't have things at home, too, but the shop was all-male, where his heroism and service could be admired and, um, embellished. He rarely talked about it at home, but I would sometimes hear things at the shop. I earned a little extra money sweeping up for him after school," he added and she nodded, forming the image of a young Booth, a little like a dark-haired Parker, looking down, pretending he wasn't listening to the men talk as he swept up hair.

"Did you--did you ever--exchange war tales when you were older?"

"War _stories_, Bones, and no, not really. There were a few things, but it was mostly combat conditions--bad food, uncomfortable bunks, that sort of thing. It didn't take me long to realize there's a hell of a lot of difference between dropping bombs from thousands of feet up and looking at your target through a sniper's scope from hundreds of feet away." His fist tightened and she lightly rested her hand on it. "We had nothing in common. He was Air and I was Army. And Jared of course is a squid--with no combat experience at all!" He barked out something that could have been a laugh. "Makes for interesting dinner conversations at times."

"I imagine."

"I'm not sure why I chose the Army. It wasn't a bad career if you can discount the sniper, mind you. But no one in the family was Army. I could have joined the Air Force even as an enlisted man."

She thought about that for a while. "I suppose this is psychology, Booth, so take it as you will."

"I didn't think you were giving up entirely on anthropology, Bones," he snorted. She gave him a _look_. "All right," he relented. "Better you than Sweets any day of the week. Let's hear it."

"Maybe--maybe you still wanted your father's approval, so you joined the military. But you didn't want to become him, so you opted for a different branch."

"Huh." He considered that for a while. "There might be something to that. And that would be why Jared went to the Navy."

"Yes. He wanted out from under his big brother. When we were at the White House, I overheard some of his conversations. At least one man there knew your father, and while I am no expert in body language, I don't think Jared was very comfortable talking about it. So I must conclude Jared doesn't want to be your father either."

"Really? Who was it?"

"I don't know; we were never introduced."

He lapsed into silence for a while and she ran her fingers up and down along the edge of her sling, wondering about the "even as an enlisted man" part, but fairly sure she shouldn't ask--yet. _Save it for another day_, she chided herself. _You weren't going to push, remember?_

"He was a mean drunk. Dad was, I mean. Jared--Jared at least doesn't seem to be that way, thank God. Though neither one will admit to a problem. If Dad had more than a couple of drinks, we scattered. Or walked on eggshells, hoping he would--God, what a thing to wish for--hoping he would just pass out in front of the TV. Summer was easiest, because we'd be outside until sunset, and then maybe took a bath and went to bed not much later. If we were quiet at dinner, it would usually be all right. I've thought since Jared must have a permanent bruise on his leg from where I'd have to kick him under the table so he'd be quiet. The school year was harder because we'd have to be inside--homework, dark, cold. You know what I mean."

She nodded, biting her lip, not wanting to imagine that boy being beaten.

He looked away, and down. "If he'd been drinking, he'd get riled up at some noise, or maybe the way we had done our chores, or something else, and then he'd start to unbuckle his belt. Were you ever hit with a belt, Bones?"

She nodded. "Mom and Dad only spanked us--bare hands. But growing up, we knew some parents used a belt, and some-some of the foster families I lived with did, too."

"Yeah, it's not uncommon. Probably more common then than now. The definition of child abuse has changed in the last 30 years. A lot. I made Rebecca promise to only spank Parker if he needs it, though. No belts." He pulled up the back of his shirt. "See this? One time Jar screwed up this old car Dad was working on, and I swear I saw smoke coming from Dad's ears, just like in a cartoon." He swallowed hard. "He had climbed in the front seat to pretend he was driving and accidentally released the parking brake when he got out. Car rolled out of the garage and into a light pole across the street."

Brennan winced.

"It could have been worse--we all admitted that later. It was only across the street and no one was hurt. But I had never seen Dad so angry before. So--"

"So you pushed Jared back and admitted to it yourself," she said when his voice failed.

He nodded and took a drink. "He beat me bloody; literally tore a strip out of me. Scared hell out of Mom and Jared both. The scar back there is where the buckle caught me; he was so furious that he didn't even know what part of the belt he was using. I still don't know what they told the hospital about how I got it. And before you ask, I was 13; Jared was 10."

She leaned forward and looked at the old and faded scar on his left _latissimus dorsi_. A sudden upwelling of sympathy and empathy surprised her into resting her fingers there. _When I was that age, I had parents who loved me. Whose worst discipline for an adolescent was grounding for a week, or no TV. Later, I found out the hard way about parents who weren't so kind._ "Booth, I--I don't know what to say…" She hesitated. "Except that Cullen was right, that time."

"Cullen?"

"Yes. About being a paladin. Do you remember? 'Defender of the faith, protector.' And you have always been that, it appears. Honorable scars, then, all of them. All." She pulled away and nodded at his shoulder meaningfully.

He pulled his shirt back down, speechless.


End file.
